Muse
by Komikitty
Summary: Just My humble tribute to Janos Audron. A girl speaks with her muse, well past her bed time. Not romance per se, but very loving. Rated for mild swearing.


AN: Simply because I love Janos so much…

Disclaimer:…If I owned it…well for one thing it probably wouldn't have been half as good…

Summary: A girl up past her bed time has a discussion with the voice she calls her muse.

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I hear voices…Well…_A_ voice…and I only hear it if I've been up for a loooong time…I guess that makes it a figment of my imagination. But I call it my muse. Well, actually it's more of a him. And he has an accent. Slightly Hungarian…maybe Romanian if you stretch…

"Oh…my head…" The computer screen flickers as I massage my temples Ah yes, the Migraine From Hades. It visits me often during the weeks of Final Exams.

(My child, what have they done to you?) And he's back! It's so nice to know someone cares besides Family.

"Oh, it's nothing, it's just studying for these thrice be-damned tests."

(You are simply...unenlightened.) The voice is calm, and serene. I growl.

"Unenlightened my ASS! _THEY_ are Sadists! They're trying to push us down with work and stress to "give us a taste of the Real World"! Well I don't buy it! I hate them!" There is silence for a moment as my roommate snorts and rolls over.

(Your journey will not be easy, they seek only to prepare you for the road ahead.) I wish he wouldn't be so reasonable. And I tell him so.

"Stop making me feel like a spoiled Brat, I have every right to complain. Repeating a grade was not fun, and having to take summer school for advanced math wasn't a basket of roses either." He chuckles and I close my eyes simply to revel in the lush sound.

(You have been cruelly tested. But do not let this spoil your perspective of things in the now.) I sip my, now cold, tea and place my chin in my hands.

"I'll try but…sometimes it's so hard, going on…" I can feel long suppressed tears welling up and scrape my knuckles over my eyes to get rid of them, angry at myself for becoming emotional.

(There are forces in your world that will strive to deceive you. But you must believe that your role is a benevolent one that will benefit all your kind.) Did I mention he's not from around here? Sometimes talking to him is like being on the phone to another universe…

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I hear a voice, occasionally. In the hours when there has been quiet to long and I fear I have gone mad from the waiting. I have only to speak to her, for the voice is indeed female, and I am given a new insight. She is young, an adult in her world, and in this one. But to one of my years she is no more then the child I call her.

(You really think I'll do anything worth remembering?) The voice is full of melancholy hope, and I feel a surge of protectiveness. If only the child were here! I would not be alone, and she would be away from such doubts…here she would do great things…

"You and all from your generation are the fulcrum upon which your world balances." She laughs softly, a disheartened sound but she is game to be cheered.

(You'll make my head swell if you're not careful.) I smile and walk towards the balcony, enjoying the light snowfall.

"You deserve such praise."

(Oh stoooop, you're making me blush.) My smile spreads into a grin and I feel somewhat like an elder brother, gently teasing his favorite sister.

"Quite attractive I assure you." She snorts.

(Don't make me do the Jedi Mind Whammy.) As it merely sends me into a fit of the giggles because the emotions behind it are so strong, I do not fear this "Mind Whammy". But it does discommode me and should Raziel enter to find me in such a…state…I shudder at the thought. But I cannot help myself; it has been so long since I have had company. So long since that last argument with Vorador…

"Indeed, such a fearsome tactic as that would be as, what was the phrase? "Sandblasting a soup cracker"?" Her laugh in infectious and I feel myself chuckle along with her. But my mirth fades as I look out over the frozen pond. There are people, Sarafan…It is time then. I have maybe, three months. As if sensing my change in mood her voice comes.

(Hey, you okay?) My heart aches as I realize that soon I will not hear this child's voice again. I will not share in her triumphs, comfort her in her failures. I will not be able to guide her through the mires of her life, or anchor her in civilizations chaotic tide.

"No child. I am not. You may recall, I argued with…my son." I can almost feel her beside me, nodding.

(Yeah, it was about your religion right? I remember.) I stretch my wings.

"I fear now I will not see him again."

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I sit up straight at my desk. This isn't like my muse. He's fatalistic sometimes yeah, but that I've come to accept. This…this is true fear, and heartache…

"Why? What's wrong?"

(My days…are…limited child. And I have not his gift for…communication.) There's more to it I know, but trying to get answers from him is like trying to get a punch line out of the sphinx. I start biting my nails, a bad habit yes, but one that is not harmful to the environment, and doesn't get me drunk or high.

"What do you mean? Are you sick?" I can feel him sigh, and for a moment, I feel like a little girl, asking her grandpa why he can't play anymore.

(In a manner.) I growl and fight the urge to slam my hands on my desk.

"Don't play coy-!" I stop as my roommate rolls over muttering something along the lines of 'Shut up'

"Don't play coy with me." I hiss. I know I'm being harsh but I get angry when I'm worried.

(…I do not have long to live child. Three months at most. And I cannot even apologize to my son.) My right hand is down to the quick and I'm starting on my left.

"Then go, don't try talking over a distance, go see him."

(Oh child, if I only could.) His voice is soft, almost heartbroken.

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(Why can't you?) Her voice is full of concern, and care. She will mourn my passing, of that I am sure.

"I must stay and guard the Relic."

(Damn the relic!)

"I have wished too many times, but it is my duty. It is an obligation that has sustained me for many years."

(It can spare you for a few days!)

"I dare not leave, not with…"

(…not with what?) I cannot deny her this answer, having been my comfort for four short years, she deserves to know my fate…but…does she wish such a burden?

"…Not with my enemies so near. Should they manage to storm the keep while I am away…"

(Then they'll have the relic…alright…How…how do you know you're gonna die?) I go and shut the door to the entrance of my retreat, triggering the lock.

"It was foretold long ago."

(The future is always uncertain.)

"History will not be changed." She is aggravated I know.

(How can you see your life as history?) I shake my head, as I return to the balcony. We have often argued over this point, but tonight I am not in the mood.

"Child." She stops, and I can almost see her, almost! A flash of hazel eyes, brown hair. And I once again am left staring out at the frozen lake, and the canyons filling up with Sarafan camps. Their small noises are magnified, seeming loud as shouts to my sensitive ears.

(I…I'm sorry.) Her voice is a whisper now.

"It is nothing. You have been…a great comfort to me these years."

(Don't say things like that! We'll talk to eachother again.) I shake my head. Neither of us is convinced, and the sun is rising.

"Perhaps. Remember child. You are beloved by many, even if you realize it not. And always by me."

(I…I love you to. Be careful ya hear?)

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It's been three months now. Last night I cried my eyes out for no apparent reason, and I know…He's gone. My muse, my angel is dead. I can't help but wonder if he ever made up with his son. If that son felt his death as I did. Was anyone who loved him there at the end? It comforts me to think there was. No one could talk to him without loving him.

And I never knew his name.

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AN: Great Mother Goddess! I have NO clue where this depressing bit of drivel came from…I originally intended it to be light hearted banter…but…well…it turned out to be this…Please review.


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